


go back to the places where we used to go (i'll be there)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: (to lovers), Alternate Universe - College/University, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Real Events, M/M, Miscommunication, POV Alternating, jets dumbass bottoms gang, pioneering that tag now, safe sex is important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 09:49:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21134732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Adam's been in love with Brandon since first year. It's a shame they're not really friends anymore.Nikolaj doesn't know when he fell in love with Patrik, but he knows he wants more than hooking up every few days.(general rule: don't steal your bro's condoms. but sometimes, you might change everything.)





	go back to the places where we used to go (i'll be there)

**Author's Note:**

> okay i tagged this "inspired by real events" so uh for reference in this story kyle connor is playing the role of Me. also only the first scene actually, like. happened. i DID take one really DREADFUL quote from real life since it was so funny but also bad. guess which one.
> 
> this is technically miranda's fault because, after i told her about it, told me to write it with adam and nikolaj as my floormates who were talking in the bathroom that fateful night.
> 
> sobs... i just wanted to moisturize.
> 
> winnipeg is the only relevant provincial capital i've never been to (fuck regina rights) so uh i don't know anything about u of m. sorry to any alumni if you're not allowed to stay in rez after first year, but seniors live in rez at my university SO. 
> 
> this like. starts kind of crack-y i GUESS? but then my angstier, tender brain took over. sorry.
> 
> title from "always something there to remind me" by naked eyes

Adam storms into the bathroom already prepared to start yelling. 

Nikolaj trails after him, probably frowning his dumb pouty frown, then he goes to one of the sinks and starts washing his hands. 

“I can’t believe you,” Adam says, forcing his voice to be clear despite having had maybe (definitely) too much to drink. He clears his throat. “I _ cannot _ believe you.”

Nikolaj pushes the soap dispenser for the fourth time. Adam can barely see his hand through the suds. “I didn’t know it was your last one,” he says slowly. His accent is slipping through in the way it does when he’s really drunk. Finally, he scrubs his hands together and rinses. 

“Who cares!” Adam cries, throwing his hands into the air. The effect of his dramatics is ruined because Nikolaj is staring into the sink and not the mirror and can’t see Adam standing behind him. Adam sighs in defeat and slumps against the wall. He tries not to think about the grossness of the floor. 

“I mean,” Nikolaj says, getting a fresh handful of soap, “I needed it at the time.” Apparently forgetting his hands are covered in soap, he reaches up to rub his neck and gives himself a slowly disintegrating collar of soap suds. 

Adam bangs his head against the wall and groans, both in pain and despair. He hopes he hasn’t given himself a concussion. Can he get concussed from banging his head on a wall?

“Fuck if I know,” Nikolaj answers. Apparently two hand washes were enough, because he gets himself some paper towels and starts to dry off his hands, one finger at a time. 

“We were so close,” Adam whines. “Like, we were naked! And then I had to find out that _ someone _ stole my last condom!” Adam sniffles. If he starts crying, he hopes Nikolaj feels bad because it’ll be his fault. “This was, like, my one chance and you—you—” Adam hates being a teary drunk sometimes. He wipes a hand over his eyes. 

Nikolaj makes an apologetic face. “I said I was sorry,” he says, crumpling up his paper towel and throwing it at Adam. 

“Ew,” Adam says, swatting the ball away. He sighs mournfully. “He was gonna fuck me,” he adds, vaguely gloomy. “We’d done foreplay and shit, you know, he did this thing with his teeth on my nipples—” He sighs again and rubs his chest absently.

“Uh huh.” Nikolaj has torn off a second sheet of paper towel to dry his other hand. He doesn’t really seem to be paying attention, which, rude. Also, Adam can see a new hickey on his throat. 

Adam squints up at him consideringly. “All that was left was my hole,” he says flatly.

Someone shrieks and it is _ not _ Nikolaj. “Oh my god!” It’s coming from one of the shower stalls, apparently _ not _ empty. “Can you shut up!”

“Is that Kyle?” Nikolaj asks. 

“I think so,” Adam replies.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” Kyle yells. 

Nikolaj throws out his paper towel and helps Adam stagger to his feet. They somehow make it out of the bathroom and back to their room without tripping over their own feet. Kyle doesn’t burst out of the bathroom to chase them like some kind of vengeful ghost set on murdering them, either.

Adam flops into his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He can hear Nikolaj trying to peel off his stupid skinny jeans, muttering curses to himself while making a thumping noise that sounds like he’s hopping on one leg.

“I dunno why you wear those when you’re trying to hook up,” Adam says, because it doesn’t really make any sense. “Like, don’t guys get bored watching you dance around like this?”

Nikolaj makes a huffy noise, then he throws the jeans at Adam and gets him right in the face. 

“Well, it’s not like _ I’m _ the one taking them off,” Nikolaj says snidely. He sniffs disdainfully. “And they make my ass look great.” 

Adam doesn’t reply because he’s _ technically _ correct, but he does throw the jeans back. Nikolaj catches them and turns around to put them away. 

“Whoa,” Adam says, staring at Nikolaj, who’s standing there in nothing but his boxers. “Bro, you’ve got, uh—” He winces when Nikolaj turns around. It’s even worse on the front. 

“What?” Nikolaj asks, scowling. Adam points to the mirror and tries not to laugh. Nikolaj stares at himself in the mirror in silence for a solid ten seconds, then slowly turns around and looks over his shoulder to check his back, still not saying anything. Then, through clenched teeth, he says, “I am going to _ kill _ him.” 

“That’s karma,” Adam says mildly, watching Nikolaj throw himself face first into his bed and nearly smother himself into his pillow.

“I hate him,” Nikolaj says. It takes a second for Adam to figure out what he’s saying because of the pillow in Nikolaj’s face. Nikolaj is silent for a moment. Adam would be worried that he’d suffocated to death if it weren’t for the way he can see him breathing. 

“Is that why you sleep with him, like, every week?” Adam asks.

Nikolaj screams into his pillow, then rolls over so he can pull his blankets up properly. He looks at Adam like a very grumpy burrito. “I hate you too,” he says. 

Adam sticks his tongue out at him, manfully ignoring Nikolaj’s mean laugh. Adam’s phone is still in his pocket, jabbing him in the thigh, and his sheets are lumpy under his back. He tries not to think too hard about why that is. He pulls his phone out, switching it on to see if he has any messages.

There’s a text from Scheif asking if he’s alive, a similar message from Blake, a text from Patrik he’d never gotten around to answering, and some incomprehensible gibberish from Rosie, who had been doing shots when Adam had last seen him.

Nothing else. 

Adam bites his lip, scrolling through his Snapchat before deciding he’s drunk enough that he can blame that if he gets a negative response, then he takes a picture of where his legs are sprawled over his rumpled sheets and captions it, _ we should try that again sometime. _

He sends it off before he can think twice and stares at the little red arrow until his eyes start to burn a little. He blinks. After a few more seconds, the arrow turns white. So do Adam’s knuckles.

His heart races and he waits for a reply. And waits. And keeps waiting. Eventually, the time stamp reads five minutes since the snap was last opened. 

Adam doesn’t want to read too much into this, but. “D’you think he’d ghost me?” he asks.

“Huh—whazzat?” Nikolaj’s head jerks up. Oops. Adam hadn’t noticed he’d been falling asleep. 

“Ghost me,” Adam repeats. “He’s not answering my messages.”

“Mmphg,” Nikolaj says, though whether his disgust is with the question or with Adam himself is unclear.

“What?” 

“Go t’sleep,” Nikolaj mumbles, “and maybe I won’t come over there and beat you up with your pillow.” 

Adam opens his mouth, reconsiders, and closes it again. He puts his phone away and rolls onto his side, staring at the wall. He’s too tired to try pulling his blankets up, so he curls into a ball and wraps his arms around himself to try to fight off the ugly feeling rising in his chest. 

He’s _ not _ going to let Brandon break his heart again.

* * *

Adam is totally going to let Brandon break his heart again, isn’t he.

Nikolaj scowls across the picnic table at Adam. He doesn’t have to turn around to know that he’s looking at Brandon. Carefully, he wraps the elastic band around the flashcards in his hand. He makes sure Adam isn’t paying attention, then he throws the bundle at him. 

The cards hit him in the chest and fall into his lap.

“What was that for!” Adam looks outraged, but in a distracted sort of way.

Nikolaj crosses his arms. “You’re being stupid,” he says.

“Uh, I was trying to study,” Adam says, picking up the flashcards and waving them in Nikolaj’s face.

Nikolaj smacks his hand away. He’s still hungover and his head hurts and he’s _ not _ in the mood. “You know what I’m talking about,” he hisses. He raises his eyebrows pointedly and turns around to see Brandon at the other end of the quad, sitting cross-legged on a bench underneath a tree with a notebook in his lap. He’s alone.

Adam grabs his chin and turns Nikolaj back to face him. “Don’t _ stare!” _

“He’s just sitting there,” Nikolaj says, and even though he knows it’s easier said than done, “Go talk to him.” 

Flushing a dramatic red, Adam looks away. “I can’t,” he says in a small voice.

Nikolaj softens a little, kicking Adam’s shin under the table. “Sorry,” he says, trying to smile reassuringly. 

“I thought he meant it, you know?” Adam pushes his notes away from him and slumps forward over the table. “I guess I was wrong about him. Again.”

Nikolaj doesn’t bother trying to argue. Adam has had that conversation with a lot of people in the past year, but he doesn’t seem to be swayed. 

Instead, Nikolaj drums his fingers on the table and tries to think of something else to talk about.

He’s saved from making that decision when Patrik slides onto the bench next to him, bumping his shoulder against Nikolaj’s. Nikolaj feels it in his whole body and he tries to ignore the fluttery feeling in his belly. 

Adam looks up suspiciously, then holds out a fist when he realizes who it is. Patrik knocks their knuckles together and Adam rests his head back on the table. 

“So,” Patrik says, smiling at Nikolaj, “what’s up?”

Nikolaj wants to scold him for all the marks he left on Nikolaj’s skin, wishes he didn’t have to pretend not to care, wants to climb into Patrik’s lap and kiss him. 

The crooked grin on Patrik’s face makes his mouth feel dry. “Studying,” he manages, his voice steadier than he expected. 

Patrik glances at Adam, still facedown on the table with his notes scattered around him, then back at Nikolaj. He raises an eyebrow.

“We _ were _ studying,” he corrects himself. He lowers his voice conspiratorially, hiding a shiver when Patrik leans closer. “Adam’s having Brandon trouble.” 

“Again?” Patrik doesn’t quite sound surprised. Maybe a little impressed. 

“I can hear you,” Adam says, muffled into the wood.

Patrik leans over the table to pat Adam kindly on the head. When he sits back, he’s a little closer to Nikolaj than he was before. It’s enough that his thigh is pressed against Nikolaj’s, making him extremely aware of the bruises on his hips, the bite mark on the inside of his thigh. 

Nikolaj tries not to blush.

“They were gonna fuck last night,” Nikolaj says. 

Adam doesn’t look up before kicking Nikolaj in the shins.

“‘Were’?” Patrik looks confused.

“Well, they didn’t, y’know.” Nikolaj makes a crude gesture with his hands.

“Oh.” Patrik frowns. “Why not?”

And maybe Nikolaj should’ve expected it when he brought it up, because Adam sits up, looks him dead in the eyes and says, “Because you idiots stole my last fucking condom.” 

Nikolaj feels his face burn, shifting awkwardly on the bench.

“Sorry,” Patrik says, not sounding very sorry at all. Nikolaj doesn’t look at him, but he can hear the smirk in his voice. “Maybe next time you should be faster.” 

Adam sputters, outraged. “I shouldn’t have to be fast! They’re mine!” 

Patrik shrugs, jostling Nikolaj a bit. “I’ll pay you back,” he says.

“I don’t need you to… ugh. It’s not about the condom, it’s—you know what, whatever.” Adam sweeps his notes into his bag and stands up. “I’m going to have a nap. See you later.”

Nikolaj watches Adam walk away for a minute before he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I feel bad,” he admits. 

“Yeah,” Patrik says, because he’s Nikolaj’s best friend and always knows what he means. The fact that he was around for the whole sordid Adam-and-Brandon-Friend-Break-Up affair doesn’t hurt, either. 

Nikolaj picks up a stray flashcard and turns it over, folding and unfolding the corners. He reads the note on the front, something about some war hundreds of years ago. Patrik catches his fidgeting hands and gently takes the card from him. 

“My room is free for a few hours,” Patrik says, sliding the flashcard into his pocket, “if you want to come over. Hang out.” The way he looks at Nikolaj says he doesn’t just want to _ hang out. _

_ No, that’s a bad idea, _ Nikolaj thinks, but doesn’t say. _ Maybe another time, _he doesn’t say. 

“Yes,” Nikolaj says, a little bit breathless. “Yeah, let’s go.” 

Patrik grins lopsidedly. Nikolaj wants to kiss him.

He doesn’t. He stands up, waits for Patrik to stand up, too, and then they head off to Patrik’s room. 

If he’d turned around before getting up, he might’ve seen Brandon wasn’t looking at his notebook anymore. He might’ve noticed that Brandon was staring in the direction Adam had gone a few minutes before, the corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes big and sad in a way Adam used to tease him about.

As it is, Nikolaj doesn’t turn around. He leans into Patrik’s side when Patrik slings an arm over his shoulders, turning his face away to hide his smile, and he doesn’t think about Adam and Brandon at all.

* * *

What happened is this.

Adam and Brandon had been roommates in first year. By second year they were best friends, and most people knew them as the single entity Adam-and-Brandon. Where one went, the other was never far behind.

Those first two years were some of the best times of Adam’s life, even if he’d started pining after Brandon—no, he never _ called _ it pining, but everyone knew except Brandon himself—after about a month of knowing him.

The disaster came at the very end of second year.

Adam never really told anyone what exactly had happened, but nobody had missed the dark circles under his eyes, the way he stayed out of his and Brandon’s room unless he had no other choice, how he’d left after the end of the semester without saying goodbye to anyone.

That on its own probably wouldn’t have troubled everyone as much if it hadn’t been for the way he’d stopped spending time with Brandon. 

The thing is, Adam fell in love with Brandon during the break before their finals in the very first semester of first year. Brandon had dragged Adam away from his study notes, tried and failed to wipe highlighter off his face, and bullied Adam into showing him how to bake chocolate chip cookies.

The sketchy kitchen wasn’t the best place for it and the cookies had burned, but Brandon had laughed and eaten one anyway. He’d held a cookie out to Adam, grinning, and their fingers had brushed when Adam took it.

That day was the culmination of a lot of things, but it was the first time Adam had looked at Brandon and thought, _ Oh, I love him. _

It hadn’t seemed so bad at the time. 

Then, the end of second year had happened.

Adam had planned to tell Brandon how he felt after finals so they didn’t have any distractions. He’d told Brandon he needed to talk to him and Brandon had agreed, saying he had something important to tell him too.

Adam’s heart flipped hearing that, wondering if they were thinking the same things. It’s not like he’s never caught Brandon watching him before, but he’d never dared hope that Brandon was as deep in his feelings as him.

He’d baked chocolate chip cookies for the occasion and made sure to find an oven that wouldn’t burn them. He stacked them neatly in a box and asked Mark to help wrap it in something nice, then he tucked it in his backpack and went to meet Brandon at their favourite pre-snow study spot on campus. 

Brandon had been waiting for him, sitting at the picnic table and staring out over the river. It was sunny and relatively warm for April. 

He hadn’t looked up when Adam sat down across from him, instead staring at his hands where he was tracing the carving of his initials on the tabletop. He and Adam had found an old knife back in first year and for lack of any better ideas, they’d decided to leave their mark on the place they considered _ theirs. _

“So—”

“I wanted—” 

They both laughed, but Brandon looked a little awkward. That was Adam’s first warning that something was wrong. 

“You can go first,” Adam said, sliding his bag off his shoulders and into his lap. He twisted his hands in the nylon and tried not to look too worried.

Brandon blew out a breath and finally looked up at Adam. His expression was serious and kind of worried. “You know, uh,” he hesitated, bit his lip, “you know how we’re going to be roomies next year?”

Adam nodded slowly, not sure where it was going. 

Brandon fidgeted. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. “I don’t want to,” Brandon blurted. 

Adam felt like he’d been slapped. His hands clenched around his backpack and he’d heard the muffled sound of cardboard crumpling. “What?” he asked, unable to believe his own ears.

“I don’t want to,” Brandon repeated. “I need—we spend too much time together. I want some space, okay? You’re—It’s too much for me” _ Some space? _ Adam felt a lump in the back of his throat. Brandon had looked at Adam. “We can still be friends, though, right?” He’d been so _ hopeful. _

“I don’t think so,” Adam had said, his voice remarkably even, and then they’d yelled at each other until Adam couldn’t stop himself from crying. He’d unzipped his backpack with shaking hands and thrown the ruined box of cookies at Brandon with an angry, “Fuck_ you, _ Tanev.” 

After that, he’d gone to Mark’s room and cried on his bed while Mark and Jacob watched in mild horror, not sure what had happened and unable to help. 

It’d been pretty shitty. 

Third year, Adam roomed with Nikolaj and that stuck. 

Adam didn’t talk to Brandon for months. Eventually, they’d had a few stilted exchanges over Snapchat, but hardly anything face to face. Not until they both ended up at the same party, both of them drunk, and Adam had wound up beside him on a couch and noticed the way Brandon kept staring at him. 

“You wanna get out of here?” he’d asked. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

Brandon looked startled for a second, but then his face had cleared. He’d nodded. 

The rest, well. Adam would rather not think about it.

* * *

Nikolaj gets back late. Adam is sleeping, he thinks, a lump under his blankets and facing the wall. Nikolaj really needs a shower after, uh, hanging out with Patrik.

He’s trying to find his shampoo when he hears Adam roll over. 

“Fun night?” Adam asks. 

“Yeah,” Nikolaj says, wincing at how hoarse his voice is.

Adam snorts. “Nice,” he says. He doesn’t add anything, which is weird. 

Nikolaj looks over at him, frowning. “Are you okay?” he asks. Adam doesn’t usually pass up a chance to make fun of him.

“I’m fine,” Adam says.

Nikolaj winces at how not-fine he sounds. He steps over to Adam’s bed and sits down.

“Oof,” says Adam. Apparently Nikolaj missed what he thought was the mattress and sat on Adam’s stomach. Whatever, he deserves it.

“Tell me what’s wrong with you,” Nikolaj says crisply, “then I’ll get off.” 

“Didn’t Patrik already take care of that for you?” Adam shoves him, _ hard, _ and Nikolaj tumbles onto the floor. 

He sits there for a moment, shellshocked. He thinks he’s going to get a bruise on his knee. Carefully, he gets to his feet. 

“You know,” he says, “you don’t have to be jealous of me and Patrik just because you couldn’t get your shit together enough to tell Brandon how you really feel.” He doesn’t know why he says it, just that he’s _ mad. _

Adam is silent for a second. “Fuck you,” he says softly. “You’re too much of a coward to tell Patrik you’re in love with him, you don’t get to say that.” 

Nikolaj doesn’t say anything this time. He doesn’t know if he can, not without his voice breaking stupidly with the pressure in the back of his throat. He blinks hard, then picks up his shower things and leaves the room without a word. Adam tries to call after him, but Nikolaj ignores him.

He stands in the shower with the water steaming around him, scrubbing himself until he stops feeling sticky and less like he’s going to cry. He still doesn’t want to go back to his room, so he presses a thumb against one of the fresh marks on his thigh before pulling on sweats and a hoodie.

He carries all his things to Patrik and Kyle’s room. He stands outside for a second, hesitating. He and Patrik have never spent the night together before.

The door opens to reveal Patrik. He’s shirtless, pajama pants low on his hips and his hair damp from showering. Nikolaj tries to ignore the hickey on his collarbone, left when he’d gotten a little too excited.

“I saw your shadow under the door,” Patrik says. He glances over his shoulder, then looks back at Nikolaj curiously. “What’s up?”

“Can I stay here tonight?” Nikolaj asks. He fidgets awkwardly at the uncertainty in his voice, but Patrik just steps back and opens the door to let him in. 

Patrik takes the bundle out of his arms and tucks it away somewhere. “Kyle’s sleeping,” he whispers loudly. 

“Not anymore, asshole,” Kyle grumbles. Kyle squints at Nikolaj, looking disgruntled. “What you and Adam said last night was the worst thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t want to hear about it ever again.”

“Uh,” says Nikolaj. 

“Shut up, KC,” Patrik says agreeably, tugging Nikolaj to his bed. 

Kyle grunts and lies back down.

Patrik gets back into bed, the sheets rumpled like he’d been lying there already. Nikolaj twists the fabric of his hoodie between his fingers, then pulls it over his head and crawls into bed.

He’s been here—well, he’s been in this bed a lot, but never quite like this. He’s never spent the night and he’s certainly never been in bed with Patrik without fucking. Now, he’s able to look up at the ceiling and see the dim light of the glow-in-the-dark stars he’d helped stick to Patrik’s ceiling earlier in the year. _ Tampere sky. _

He’s tense. He knows Patrik can tell because after about a minute, Patrik rolls over and wraps an arm around Nikolaj’s waist, setting his chin on his shoulder and nudging his nose against Nikolaj’s jaw.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” Patrik asks, his voice barely louder than a breath. Nikolaj can feel the warmth of his breath against his neck.

“I fought with Adam,” Nikolaj admits. He shrugs lopsidedly, not wanting to dislodge Patrik.

Patrik hums softly. “Why?” 

Nikolaj shakes his head, knowing Patrik can feel the movement. “Sorry,” he says, guilt rising in his chest.

_ Coward, _Adam’s voice rings in his head and Nikolaj squeezes his eyes shut. He twists in Patrik’s arms so he can face Patrik, tucking his face into Patrik’s chest and holding on.

Patrik makes a quiet, surprised noise, but he pulls Nikolaj closer and runs one hand through his hair soothingly. “Go to sleep,” he whispers. “We can talk in the morning.” 

Nikolaj nods and curls closer into Patrik’s warmth. Patrik strokes his hair until he falls asleep, and Nikolaj drifts off wondering why they don’t do this every night.

* * *

When Adam wakes up, Nikolaj still isn’t back. He feels pretty awful about the argument, because Nikolaj _ did _ have a point. It’s not his fault Adam and Brandon aren’t friends, aren’t _ together. _ That’s on Adam.

It’s Sunday, so Adam lets himself lie in bed and feel sorry for himself for another half hour before he gets up to make himself half presentable. 

He runs into Nikolaj in the bathroom. 

“Uh,” he says.

“Mmf,” says Nikolaj from around his toothbrush. Apparently, trying to talk is too much and Nikolaj starts choking on his toothbrush.

Adam waits patiently while Nikolaj coughs into the sink and chugs some water from the tap. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Adam says. 

Nikolaj frowns. “So you cornered me in the bathroom?” 

“I didn’t know you were going to be here!” Adam plants his hands on his hips and sighs deeply. “I wanted to tell you that you were, like, mostly right. I shouldn’t have been mad at you just because I was jealous.”

Nikolaj crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. “‘Mostly’?” he repeats. 

Adam scuffs the toe of his shoe against the floor, realizes he’s being a wimp, stops and stares at Nikolaj challengingly. “I still think you’re a wimp,” he says, powering on through Nikolaj wide eyes and stammering objection. “Like, you know I can tell that you’re hurting yourself with this shit, right? Either tell Patrik you want to stop so you’re not, you know, getting less than you want or tell him how you feel.” 

“Adam,” Nikolaj squeaks, weirdly pale, “I think you should shut up. Please.” 

“Uh,” Adam says, and realizes quite suddenly that the shower stopped running a minute ago.

The stall door swings open. Patrik is standing there, still soaking wet and only wearing a towel around his waist. He’s staring straight past Adam at Nikolaj. His eyes look a little wild. 

“Nik,” he starts, a hesitancy in his voice that makes Adam wince. Patrik doesn’t, like, _ do _ hesitation.

“I have, uh,” Nikolaj shuffles towards the door, “class?” He bolts.

Patrik tries to follow him, but Adam catches his arm and shakes his head. 

“You might want to put some clothes on first, buddy,” he advises.

Patrik scowls at him. “He’s upset,” he says. “It’s your fault.” He yanks his arm out of Adam’s grip and goes back to the shower stall to dry off and get dressed. 

“Oh, stop,” Adam says angrily. “If it’s my fault he’s upset right now, it’s your fault just as much. It’s _ been _ your fault. You haven’t been paying attention.”

There’s silence. The stall door swings open again. Patrik’s standing there in his jeans, a shirt crumpled in his hands. “Has he really been, uh.” Patrik twists the shirt around his hands. 

“What, sad?” Adam guesses. He shakes his head in disappointment. “I thought you knew him better. Every night he comes back from your place, he’s, like.” Adam isn’t sure, exactly, how to describe the way Nikolaj comes back late, quiet and small, the way he presses his fingers against his neck like the ache of the bruises will remind him that it was real. The way he sometimes stacks blankets and pillows around himself, arms wrapped around his chest, like he’s cold.

Like he’s lonely.

Adam doesn’t know how to tell Patrik without explaining all of that, so instead of trying to put it succinctly, he leans against the wall and tells him everything.

Patrik already knows that Nikolaj is in love with him, so. What harm could this do?

A lot, apparently, Adam realizes as Patrik’s face pales. His eyes drop to the floor like he’s ashamed. Adam trails off and bites his lip awkwardly.

It seems he has a talent for making things worse.

Patrik pulls his shirt on and gathers his things. “I have to go,” he says. He doesn’t wait for Adam to answer before he’s out the door.

Adam stares at himself in the mirror. He still looks the same, even though it feels like he’s been ruining everyone else’s lives lately. 

He scrubs a hand over his jaw and thinks about what Nikolaj told him yesterday.

Nikolaj doesn’t know the details of what went down at the end of second year, fine. But he knows Adam and he knows Brandon, and he knew them together. Maybe he’s right. Maybe Adam _ should _ tell Brandon how he feels, tell him the reason he wanted to talk to him that day back in second year, even if it’s just for closure.

Adam reaches for his phone, indecision warring inside him. 

On the one hand, he could get closure. He’d be able to stop thinking about the_ what if_s and move on.

On the other hand, and this makes him _ burn _ with shame, he doesn’t know if he wants to move on. He loved Brandon so much, enough that it was like a physical ache in his chest whenever Brandon threw back his head and laughed or reached out to touch Adam while he was talking. Stupidly, probably, Adam still loves him.

He’s not sure he wants to lose that. 

Adam pulls his phone out before he can change his mind. He opens his Snapchat conversation with Brandon. There’s nothing there from the last couple weeks except what he’d sent on Friday night. 

_ hey, _ he opens with, _ we need to talk. i’ll be at our spot at 3. it’s important. _

Adam hits send before he can panic, then blows out a deep breath. He feels a little shaky, anxiety rising in his gut. He puts his phone away again, not letting himself be tempted into checking if Brandon read his message or not.

Brandon will either be there at three, or he won’t. 

In the meantime, Adam is going to brush his teeth. He’s not going to tell Brandon he’s in love with him while his mouth tastes like he ate roadkill for breakfast.

He doesn’t think too hard on why he’s so concerned about the taste of his mouth.

Brandon wanted to fuck him while they were drunk, maybe. That doesn’t mean he wants to kiss him. 

It’s been years, though, and it’s harder than it sounds to stop hoping.

* * *

_ gone out, maybe meeting up with b, _says Adam’s text.

Normally, Adam being out for an afternoon would lead to Nikolaj texting Patrik and inviting him over. Today, he wants to crawl under his blankets and never come out again. 

He knows it’s not Adam’s fault. Adam couldn’t have known that Patrik was there, and he really did sound sincere about apologizing. Unfortunately, Logical Nikolaj has been thrust to the back of Nikolaj’s conscious for the time being and all he really wants to do is give Adam a solid kick in the shins. 

Instead, Nikolaj burrows deeper into his blankets and curls his hands in the sleeves of his oversized hoodie. He tucks his nose into the collar. It still smells like Patrik, even though it’s been in Nikolaj’s room for probably three weeks by now. 

He feels pretty pathetic about that.

Someone knocks at the door.

Nikolaj pulls his pillow over his face and wonders if he could suffocate himself to death. He thinks probably not. 

“Nikolaj, I know you’re in there.” 

It’s Patrik. Obviously. 

Nikolaj stays silent.

“Ville told me he heard you slam your door earlier,” Patrik continues.

Fucking Ville. Stupid frosh, always betraying Nikolaj over his weird hero worship friendship with Patrik. Nikolaj makes a mental note to slide an extremely rude note under Ville’s door, then reconsiders. Him and Gus might decide to enact revenge and that’s _ never _ pretty.

Maybe a stern talking to about standing up for himself.

“Nik,” Patrik says, and his voice is—well, he sounds sad. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now. I’ll—I’ll be around when you’re ready.” He sighs and Nikolaj hears the squeak of his sneakers moving down the hall. 

Nikolaj doesn’t think before he leaps out of bed, dragging his blanket with him and throwing open the door. 

“Patrik,” he calls.

Patrik is halfway down the hall, but he stops and turns around. Nikolaj pulls the blanket tighter around himself and waits for Patrik to come back.

“I didn’t know,” is the first thing Patrik says.

They’re sitting side by side on Nikolaj’s bed, a few inches between them. That small gap feels about as insurmountable as an ocean right now.

“That was kind of the point,” Nikolaj admits. “I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want—I wanted to keep you and if I could get at least some of what I wanted, then that was… it was something.” He’s not going to lie to Patrik and say it was _ enough. _

Patrik rubs his hands together. “So,” he starts. “You’re in love with me?”

Nikolaj’s breath catches. Patrik doesn’t sound upset, or like he’s preparing to let Nikolaj down gently. He dares to hope. “Yes,” he whispers. He stares down at his palms, not wanting to face Patrik right now.

“How long?” Patrik asks. “Niky?” he prompts when Nikolaj stays quiet.

“I don’t,” Nikolaj swallows hard, “I don’t have an exact date, Patty, it just—it just kind of happened.”

“Oh,” Patrik says softly, and then the distance between them is gone when Patrik shifts over and wraps an arm around Nikolaj’s shoulders. “Me too,” he whispers. 

“You—” Nikolaj turns as much as he can, looking up into Patrik’s clear, blue eyes. 

“I love you,” Patrik says, and it sounds so easy. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but.” He smiles his perfect crooked smile. “You didn’t tell me, either.” 

Nikolaj drops his forehead against Patrik’s shoulder with a groan. “We’re stupid,” he whines.

Patrik’s laugh ruffles his hair. “Speak for yourself,” he says, ignoring Nikolaj’s insulted exclamation. He leans back a little, enough that Nikolaj has to sit up straight and look at him. He cups Nikolaj’s cheeks in his big hands, running his thumbs over his cheekbones. 

“Hey,” Nikolaj murmurs, leaning into the touch. “I didn’t get to say it properly.” He closes his eyes for a moment to collect himself, then looks into Patrik’s eyes. “I love you,” he says. 

Patrik grins. Nikolaj feels a little taken aback by how _ happy _ he looks, but he knows he must look the same.

“Hey,” Patrik says, eyes warm, “wanna be boyfriends?” He laughs at Nikolaj’s eye roll.

“Dumbass,” Nikolaj says, unable to hide the fondness in his voice. “Yes.”

Patrik slides one hand around the back of Nikolaj’s head to curl into his hair. His other hand brushes over Nikolaj’s mouth. 

“Niky,” he says slowly, “can I kiss you?”

Nikolaj’s heart stutters. For all the times they’ve fucked, they’ve never kissed once. He nods, maybe too enthusiastically.

Patrik leans down and Nikolaj tilts his head up to meet him.

When their lips touch, Nikolaj doesn’t see stars or fireworks or any of that shit. Instead, a deep warmth settles in his chest and his eyes fall shut. It feels… comfortable. Like coming home.

Nikolaj breaks the kiss and winds his arms tightly around Patrik’s neck. He’s still holding his blanket, so it wraps around both of them. Patrik’s arms slide around his waist and he kisses the top of Nikolaj’s head. Nikolaj buries his face in Patrik’s collarbones, hiding his smile in Patrik’s shirt. 

“Cute,” Patrik says, his hands slipping under the back of Nikolaj’s shirt to rest against his skin.

Nikolaj bites him gently. “Shut up,” he mumbles.

“Ow,” Patrik says mildly. “That’s not very nice.”

Nikolaj bumps his head against Patrik’s chin. “I’m very nice,” Nikolaj reminds him. “Don’t you remember?” 

“Do I remember,” Patrik says teasingly. He tightens his hold on Nikolaj and moves him so he’s lying against the pillows with Nikolaj on top of him and the blanket draped over both of them.

Nikolaj’s heart flutters that way it always does when Patrik moves him around so easily. Like it’s nothing.

Patrik tilts his head to press his lips to Nikolaj’s temple. “Of course I remember,” he murmurs against Nikolaj’s hair. “I was nice to you, too, remember.” His hands are sliding down Nikolaj’s back.

“Wait, wait,” Nikolaj says, scrambling for his phone.

Patrik groans at the way Nikolaj is wriggling on top of him. Nikolaj spares a moment to feel a little bad for him, then he pulls his phone out of his pocket to send a text to Adam.

_ dont cm back til i tell u, _he manages with shaky hands, then he drops his phone on the floor. 

He grins down at Patrik, sure his eyes are starting to look a little crazed. “So,” he says, sliding his hands up Patrik’s chest, “what were you doing?” 

The look in Patrik’s eyes makes him shiver. It’s going to be one of _ those _times, Nikolaj thinks.

Then Patrik kisses him and Nikolaj realizes that today is going to be different than every other time they’ve fucked. 

Patrik _ loves _ him.

* * *

Adam hasn’t been back to their picnic table since the fight. 

He sits down and faces the river, the afternoon sunlight reflecting off it almost blinding. He drops his gaze to the tabletop instead, the wood scratched and stained.

Their initials have worn away a little, softened at the edges. Adam traces the _ B, _remembering how happy they’d been that day, the sharp, dangerous grin Brandon had shot him when he’d found the knife. Adam’s heart skips a beat at the mere memory and he digs his fingers into the wood a little harder. 

He sits there for a while, slowly tapping his fingers against the table.

Eventually, he checks his phone to see what time it is. _ 3:30. _ He sighs, his shoulders drooping. He _ knew _ Brandon probably wasn’t going to show up, but. He really did hope. 

He’s about to swing his legs over the bench and leave when he hears footsteps.

Brandon drops onto the bench across from him, breathing hard and sweaty.

“Uh—” 

“Sorry,” Brandon wheezes. He turns away to cough. “I had a meeting. I didn’t know—I was hoping you’d still be here.” 

Two years ago, Adam would’ve known that. “Oh,” he says. He bites his lip, suddenly uncertain now that Brandon is actually _ here. _

“So,” Brandon says slowly, looking at him expectantly. “You wanted to talk to me?”

Adam nods shakily. “I—yeah. It’s why I wanted to talk to you back… you know.” He clears his throat awkwardly. He steels himself, his hands pressed to their initials. “I—”

“I’m in love with you,” Brandon interrupts.

Adam stares at him. Brandon stares back, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide like he can’t believe he just said that. 

“You are?” Adam demands. He feels like the Earth has been yanked out from under him.

“Sorry,” Brandon says miserably. “I thought I should tell you why I didn’t want to room with you last year. You deserve to know.” Adam kind of feels like he’s being choked and not in a sexy way. More in a _ can’t breathe or speak _kind of way. “I should’ve told you before, I was just scared that—” Brandon shuts his mouth and looks down at his hands.

Adam swallows hard and finds his voice. “You didn’t let me finish,” he says. “I’ve been in love with you—fuck, since first year.” 

“Adam,” Brandon says, his voice fragile in a way that Adam doesn’t like, “don’t fuck with me, okay?”

“I made you _ cookies _ to tell you,” Adam tells him. He reaches across the table and takes Brandon’s hands. “I’ve been fucked up over it for a long time. I lost the guy I was in love with but I lost my best friend, too.”

Brandon turns his palms up to grip Adam’s hands, a lost expression on his face. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “This—everything—it’s my fault. I should’ve tried to talk to you better before I hurt you like that.” He looks sad and ashamed and guilty and he is technically right, but it’s been over a year and a lot has changed. They’re not nineteen and stupid anymore, first of all.

Adam kicks him gently in the ankle. “I’m not mad at you,” he says, “not anymore. Not really. I’ve had a lot of time to think and we both fucked up. I should’ve tried to talk to you without getting so mad and, you know, throwing cookies at you.”

They both laugh, breathless and a little shaky. 

“Why’d you, uh,” Adam tries to think of a diplomatic way to phrase this, “ghost me the other day?” 

Brandon wrinkles his nose, the action so familiar that Adam’s chest twists. “We were, like, inches away from fucking and you bolted when you realized you didn’t have a condom. I didn’t really know what to think.”

Adam decides that that’s fair.

“Like,” Brandon continues, “I would’ve jerked you off anyway.” 

“Urk,” Adam squeaks.

Brandon grins at him lopsidedly like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Shut up,” Adam grumbles, but he tangles his fingers through Brandon’s and pulls Brandon’s hand to his mouth to brush a kiss over his knuckles. Brandon looks vaguely awestruck when he finally pulls away. “I think I want to try taking this slow,” Adam says, watching Brandon’s face.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Brandon agrees, because it’s been over a year since they’ve really been friends and there’s a lot they need to relearn about each other, about the way they fit together. Brandon curls his fingers around Adam’s wrist, stroking his thumb over Adam’s pulse point. “But for now, uh.” Brandon squeezes his wrist lightly, gaze on Adam’s face but not his eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, Adam leans up and over the table, taking Brandon’s face in his hands and kissing him soundly.

“Mmph,” Brandon says against his mouth, his eyes going wide for a second before he closes them.

Adam takes a second to admire his eyelashes where they rest against his cheeks, then his own eyes fall shut as he deepens the kiss. Brandon curls a hand around the back of Adam’s neck to hold him in place. 

Eventually, Brandon pulls away, but only enough to rest their foreheads together. He scratches his fingernails over the back of Adam’s neck, breathing hard but smiling. 

“Maybe we don’t have to take it _ too _ slow,” Adam admits, breathy. He presses a helpless kiss to Brandon’s lips, muffling Brandon’s laugh. 

“Maybe not,” he agrees, “but I’m good with this for as long as you need.”

Yeah, that’s the guy Adam fell in love with.

They’re about to leave when Brandon stops suddenly, jolting Adam a little bit when his hand pulls him back. “Wait,” Brandon says, and he drops Adam’s hand and goes back to lean against the bench. 

Adam watches curiously as Brandon fumbles for something in his pocket, then his eyes widen in understanding at the sight of the old knife. 

“You kept that?” Adam asks. He thought Brandon had tossed it into the river when they were finished with it. 

Brandon grins, a little embarrassed. “‘Course,” he says. “Reminded me of you.” 

“Oh.” Adam’s face warms. “Cornball,” he adds, weakly. 

“Nice comeback, babe,” Brandon says and Adam doesn’t get a chance to have _ feelings _ over Brandon calling him babe before Brandon sets the point of the knife to the wood and starts carving something.

It takes too long, the knife dull and ineffective, but eventually he steps back and Adam moves into his space to see it.

“Okay, definitely a cornball,” Adam says, but he can’t shove down his goofy smile.

Brandon’s carved a deep heart around their initials. It’s mostly even and everything.

“Whatever,” Brandon says, reaching up to pat Adam’s cheek. “You love it.”

Adam can’t argue with that.

Before they leave for real, Brandon steps closer to the riverbank. He looks at the knife in his hand, then takes a few running steps and throws the knife as hard as he can.

Adam watches it turn end over end through the air before hitting the water with barely a ripple.

“Why’d you do that?” he asks when Brandon gets back to him.

Brandon laces their fingers together and smiles to himself. “I don’t need a reminder anymore,” he says.

_ Oh. _

* * *

_ Epilogue: _

“Hey.” Patrik has to raise his voice to be heard over the music. “Can you get up for a second?” 

Nikolaj hums thoughtfully and slouches deeper into Patrik’s lap. “But I’m comfy,” he whines. 

Patrik pinches his waist. “I have something for Adam, come on. I’ll only be a minute.”

Adam is across the room talking to Kyle and Mark, gesticulating so wildly with his hands that he almost bonks Brandon in the face when Brandon gets back with their drinks. Nikolaj can practically sense the unimpressed expression on Brandon’s face even though he can’t see his face.

“Fine,” he says, dragging it out, “but you have to make it up to me later.”

“Don’t I always?” Patrik asks, pinching Nikolaj’s waist before Nikolaj stands up. 

Nikolaj sits back in the chair and watches Patrik move through the crowd to get across the room. 

Patrik taps Adam on the shoulder, says something to him and grins at the way Adam looks embarrassed. He pulls something out of his pocket and presses it into Adam’s hand. 

Nikolaj is pretty sure he winks at Brandon. Nikolaj also doesn’t miss the vaguely murderous expression Kyle turns to look at him with.

He gets up to let Patrik take the chair before climbing back into his lap. 

“Was that what I think it was?” Nikolaj asks. 

Patrik grins. “I did promise I’d pay him back.”

They laugh loud enough that some people turn to look, but Nikolaj doesn’t care. Then he pauses, realizing something.

“You know,” he says, slow and thoughtful, “all this happened because I stole a condom.” 

“I think we should leave that part out when we tell people how we got together.”

“You _ think?” _

**Author's Note:**

> gonna be honest: i hate this a lot. super glad to be DONE with it. every time i look at it i remember:
> 
> there i was. standing in the shower stall, trying to get nice and body-buttered up at 1:30 am. two drunken girls burst in, not realizing i'm in the bathroom. immediately start talking about. well. you read this. and YES one of them DID cry because she couldn't fuck. you know what they said. i almost cried laughing. i didn't yell like kc does here, but i wished i had so i projected that on him.
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/symphony7inAmaj)


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